My Scythe Remains Sheathed

Let us check in on the life I have been endeavouring to nurture:

FourPointFive? Check.

I know he doesn't look all that impressive -- but I've been trying to find the best place for him, a place where he'll get nice bright but not direct light. He keeps sprouting new leaves, and although none of them grow all that big I'm taking the sprouting as a confirmation that he isn't completely unsatisfied with my care. I think he likes where he is right now. I'm expecting big things from him.

One lil' guy broke free, though, and secured himself a place in my makeshift peanut butter jar terrarium. The terrarium may still have the whiff of many deaths wafting within it. We'll have to wait and see how FourPointFive-ette fares... but he's been in there for about two days now. In the past, begonia clippings have rarely lasted a few hours in this situation (how much water does one put in the shot glass of soil if you're going to enclose it in a peanut butter jar? I never know..and that usually shows), so again, chalking this one up under the win column so far.

How's about ol' Zippy? You can't really tell, because I think I cheated angles in earlier photos of the ol' Zipster -- but this is actually progress. Yes, Zippy remains a little top heavy, but full of life top heavy. Where the top sprouts used to be maybe a few centremetres, they are now a few inches and growing strong. So Zippy remains filed under "success".

In conclusion, the touch of death has not returned to my apartment to date. Good going, Deb. So obviously not everything in your life is fated to shrivel up, rot and fester through your association with it. Good to know.

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A Picture Puzzler

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party. As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it: I'll give you all some time to guess...

And they called me mad when I bought the bunker in the woods!

I had heard that one way of thwarting telemarketers was to make them think the number they have dialed is in fact a fax machine. I've tried different tones on my cordless phone, all to no avail. Then I had an epiphany: When I turned sixteen, my sister bought me a new-fangled telephone. It had push buttons, but it was still just a rotary phone - when you pressed each button to dial, you still heard the rotary "tat-a-tat-tat-tat" with every number. I had held onto this phone ever since. It's cute. It works. There was no reason to get rid of it. I was willing to bet that, in this day and age of advanced technology rendering yesterday's device obsolete on a daily basis, a telemarketer - who is likely going to be decades younger than my phone - would be unable to even identify a rotary phone by sight much less by sound. And voila! Answering the phone with my rotary phone, and constantly pressing the buttons, the telemarketer kept repeating "Hello?

Batten down the hatches -- we're in it for the long haul!

Given that the weather reports for Edmonton this weekend are grim grim grim (lows of minus 33, highs of minus 25 -- with wind chills of around minus 35 to 40), I woke up early this morning to get all errands for the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop. I barely needed a coat this morning as I headed out to my car to embark on my mission. With each passing hour, the thermometer dipped a degree or twelve. By time I was done driving around (and paused to catch a movie at the neighbourhood googolplex), it was chill-lay outside. I am now snuggly boarded up in my apartment, with no plans to so much as peek my nose out my window until Tuesday (when the temps shall return to a balmy minus 15). Groceries? Check. Toiletries? Check. Magazines to curl up with? Check. Christmas Presents? Check. Lessee, I got my father what he's been asking for since I was old enough for him to give me his Christmas wish list: And I think my mother will enjoy her bungalow by the stream: For my sister and he

A Skewed View

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